Ladies and gentlemen, today I bring to you quite the story that reaches far beyond what any weatherman on television ever could.
In the ripe month of August, when there was not a drop of moisture in the Texas heat, I attended a camp for incoming Freshman. A camp that was just dandy, one in which many wonderful memories came out of. Although there was one problem. There were about four wall plugs amidst the entire cabin of fifty girls, so naturally, it was a fight to the death if you had any interest in keeping your phone charged.
One evening of the retreat, I was feeling a little brave. Brave enough to attempt to find a place to charge my power drained phone, and just happened to be lucky enough to find one. So there my phone sat, happily regaining power on the bathroom counter while I sat outside talking with one of my friends. I returned an hour later, only to discover my poor phone sitting in what was basically a lake of water amidst the bathroom counter where girls had been showering, brushing their teeth, and proceeding to get ready for bed.
My heart beat quickly and I panicked just a tad. The screen was lit with yellow and pink lines that blinked at me in a fuzzy fashion and I knew there was no hope for my poor phone. Since we were far from any real civilization, I knew the chances of anyone having rice with them was slim, so I desperately wrapped my phone in a bath towel with the charger side down in hopes that the water would drain. Rest in peace, dear friend.
The next day around noon, my fried electronic device began to partially work, and to this day, has only partially worked. Despite the initial inconvenience, there are a few perks to having a water-sensitive phone in a town as humid as College Station.
Being a native College Stationite myself, I should probably warn you all that the weather you have experienced (i.e. the rain) has been nothing so far. When march rolls around, our campus will look like a tsunami, so you should probably invest in some rain boots if you haven't already.
Although, when the little rain that we have had so far rolls around, let me tell ya folks, I'm one of the first to know. If there is even a drop of humidity in the air, my dear old phone doesn't hesitate to let me know. The screen returns to its fuzzy state and glitches occur, yet at least I don't have to check my weather app to know what is about to hit me.
Even better, at football games I would sport my favorite cowgirl boots, because you know, I'm just redass like that, and conveniently, my boot leg was a pretty great place to store my phone and game ticket so that I didn't have to hold a bag. Yet, those Aggie games were scorching and the sweat was rolling, and guess what? My phone knew it. My SWEAT would cause my phone to malfunction, which is quite the explanation to have to tell your date to the game. No, phone, it isn't raining outside, but I am dripping in sweat and I'm trying to hide it.
So if you ever are in need of the forecast, don't hesitate to ask. Nine times out of ten, I've got you, home skillet.
Sincerely,
Rach and her fried phone
